Accusations

    I despise being accused of something I didn’t do.
    I really, really, really, really, really despise being accused of something I wouldn’t do.
    Like chase after another woman’s man.
    Then that woman be oh so sweet and friendly – pretend, of course – when she sees me out somewhere.

    Today was the final straw. Jake Lansing and I were talking about deer we’d seen along roads in our area while in the checkout line at the quick stop. He was showing me pictures he had taken of a few deer, and I was admiring one eight-point buck, when Amelia Benson got in line behind us.
    And started her oh-how-good-to-see-you routine.
    I said what I hoped was a polite-sounding “Alright” to her phony “How are you?” inquiry, then handed Jake his phone and complimented him on the good pictures. As I set my drink and chips on the counter, I heard Amelia ask Jake how his wife, Lucinda, was doing – loud enough that I, and anyone nearby, could easily hear.
    Jake replied that Lucinda was doing fine and enjoying the summer. As I turned from the counter after paying the clerk, and started for the door, Jake said to me, “I’ll talk to you later, Natalie.”
    I said, “Okay. See you later,” which is pretty well my standard end of conversation statement to whomever I might be talking to, and walked out of the store to my truck.

    I was about halfway home when my cell phone rang. I glanced at it: Jake. Wondering what he wanted, I pulled into the rock quarry’s wide entranceway and answered.
    He barely gave me time to say “Hello” before wanting to know what I’d done to Amelia.
    “Nothing,” I told him. “Why?”
    “She said that if I knew what was good for me that I’d never speak to you again, and that she was of a mind to have a talk with Lu.”
    Damn jealous women. And vain ones. And self-centered ones. And gossipy ones. And know-it-all ones. And . . . hell . . . damn ’em all.
    “She got it in her head after Ben died that I was after Earl, just because we talked some. I sure hope Lucinda has more sense than Amelia or you’re gonna catch hell when you get home.”
    “You think she’ll call Lu?” Jake asked, sounding surprised.
    “Yep. Probably on the phone to her right now. You didn’t help yourself any by saying you’d talk to me later.”
    “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”
    “I’m not kidding, Jake. I don’t know what Amelia’s told other women in the neighborhood, but three or four won’t speak to me now, and one will even turn and go the other way if we meet in an aisle at Walmart.”
    I didn’t get a reply so had no idea if Jake was thinking or had driven through a dead zone. “Jake?” I queried.
    “I’m here,” he said. “I can’t believe anyone would think that about you. I knew there wasn’t anyone for you or Ben but each other. Even now. What’s wrong with Amelia?”
    “Other than being jealous, I don’t know. But she’s not the only one who thinks I’m after a man, and all I have to do is speak to one and smile.” I told him about the clerk in the store telling me that the police chief was taken and I couldn’t have him, and all we’d done was talk about the weather while waiting in line.
    “Now you’re making things up.”
    “No, I’m not. Even had one of my friends accuse me of flirting with my pastor because we both laughed about having to have our trucks worked on.”
    “Aw, c’mon, Nat. No way.”
    “Yes, way. I’ve been done this way for years.”
    “I find that hard to believe.”
    “Believe it, Jake. And if you get an earful like I’m expecting you will when you get home, tell Lucinda to talk to me instead of yelling at you.”
    “You’re serious.”
    “I am. We’d better hang up before Lucinda starts calling you and wonders why your phone is busy.”
    “Alright. But I still don’t believe you.”
    “Maybe I’m wrong about Amelia calling Lucinda, but don’t be surprised. I’ll talk to you later.”
    “Alright. Have a good evening, Nat.”
    “You, too, Jake.”
    I hoped Lucinda wasn’t the jealous type.

    After we ended the call, I pulled back onto the road and finished my drive home.
    A while later, my comments to Jake were proven to be correct. Lucinda called me.

    Apparently Jake had been able to mostly convince her that I wasn’t interested in him as a replacement for Ben, but I could hear an edge to Lucinda’s voice when she asked, “How often do you talk to Jake?”
    I told her that our “talks” were at random times as we only saw each other if we happened to be in a store at the same time. And, yes, sometimes we did talk for several minutes, about a little of everything. And, no, while I like Jake and think he’s a really nice guy, that my heart belongs to Ben and always will.
    From the tone of her voice, Lucinda was somewhat mollified by the time we finished our conversation. More accurately, her interrogation of me. I gave short, sometimes one-word answers, to her increasingly intrusive questions. When she broached the subject of sex, I decided enough was enough. 
    “Lucinda, I have no idea what Amelia said about me, but am sure none of it was complimentary. If you believe what she told you, especially without knowing anything about me, I can’t do anything about it. All I can tell you is that my love for Ben fills my heart and there’s no room there for any other man. I’m sorry Amelia upset you, but there’s nothing I can do about that either.” I paused. Should I or shouldn’t I? I decided to.
    “She said you’d . . . ,” Lucinda started.
    I cut her off. “I’m not done. If it upsets you that I occasionally talk to Jake, I’ll stop. But I want you to know he feels like a brother to me, because of his friendship with Ben. That’s also the way I feel about Earl.
    “I can’t help what you and Amelia think about me, but I’ll be damned if I apologize for something I didn’t do.
    “I’m done. I’m off here, and consider this topic closed.”
    I hung up, then turned off my phone. I tapped it on the chair arm and hoped Lucinda didn’t give Jake any more grief than she already had.
    Damn! It was bad enough Amelia made me out to be a Jezebel to women in the neighborhood, but to start spreading tales about me to someone she barely knew was a whole other ballgame. I’d figure out some way to get my due, might take some time, but the occasion would arise when I least expected it.
    A couple of months later it did.

    I was at the end of a slow-moving checkout line in Walmart when Amelia spotted me and came over to do her “friendly” routine. And she had an audience, of course. She never spoke to me unless someone was nearby. Guess she thought that being seen speaking to me would make people think she was a forgiving wife and above such petty annoyances as me.
    Well, this time I was deliberately going to do something. When she finished her effusive greeting, I said, loud enough that I figured most of the people in earshot could hear it, “Have you ever told Earl which one of your boys isn’t his?”
    Her gasp said it all. The couple of snickers I heard behind me added to the ambience.
    The checkout line moved forward, and I pushed my cart closer to the conveyor belt. Yeah, I was being a vindictive bitch, but enough was enough.